Crazy about her Spanish Boss. Rebecca Winters
look at him in the same way.
A black sedan bearing the same crest she’d seen on the gate of the estate stood parked outside the automatic doors. It came as no surprise she had her own private taxi service offered by none other than the most outrageously attractive male on the planet.
Jillian could make that statement with the greatest of authority.
For the last six years she’d been around hundreds of striking men from almost every country who’d been on tours across Europe. Yet unlike the majority of them, Remi seemed oblivious to the interest he created among women and men alike.
She had a hunch he’d been born with other things on his mind than himself, a quality she rated right at the top of a man’s most desirable qualities.
After he’d assisted her into the front passenger seat, the nurse handed her a sack containing her drops and a printout of instructions.
“Good luck, Senora. Vaya con dios.”
“Gracias, Senora.”
The woman shut the door. When Jillian turned her head, she watched Remi put the two bouquets on the floor of the backseat, then shut the door. After a chat with the nurse he joined Jillian in front, filling the atmosphere with his own intoxicating male scent mixed with the smell of leather.
As soon as he turned on the ignition she said, “I have reservations at the Prado Inn.”
The powerful engine made a low purring sound. “Your room won’t be ready until this afternoon.”
“I know. I’m planning to work at a table in the bar of the hotel while I wait.”
“Work is the great panacea, verdad?” The way he’d spoken let her know he was no stranger to it.
With a change of gear he drove out to the tree-lined street, maneuvering them through the heavy morning traffic with practiced ease. It already promised to be a hot, sunny day as they made their way to the other side of the colorful city without talking. Between the profusion of flowers and playing fountains, Madrid had a beauty all its own.
Strange that with only one eye to see through, every sense seemed to be enhanced. The sky looked bluer, food tasted better, the roses smelled sweeter, a man’s deep voice penetrated to her insides, a man’s touch sent her blood surging.
Jillian could thank the disturbing male at the wheel for this meteoric thrust back into the life she’d thought was over when Kyle never came home again.
Oh, darling… It should be you making me feel this way.
Before she realized it Remi pulled the car into the first empty parking space at the side of the street. After shutting off the motor he turned to her, his bronzed arm outstretched along the top of the seat. Leaning closer, he wiped the salty tears off her chin with his finger. “How can I help, Jillian?”
With those words she realized he thought she’d broken down because of her eye injury. The pathos in his tone moved her in ways she didn’t know were possible. She sniffed and raised her head to look out at one of the many gardens bordering the sidewalks.
“You’ve done everything humanly possible. I’m very grateful,” she said, her voice shaking.
“Grateful enough to tell me what’s really going on inside?” His deep timbre resonated to her bones.
She struggled for composure. For her own emotional sanity it would be better never to see him again. Because he felt partially guilty for the accident, he’d been her Good Samaritan, but she had no reason to read any more into it.
It wasn’t his fault he made her feel things she didn’t want to feel, wasn’t ready to feel. That’s what was really going on.
Forcing a gentle laugh she said, “Don’t mind me, Remi. Every so often I have a day or two where I get emotional for no particular reason.”
His arm remained in place behind her, catching the ends of her hair.
“Is that why you were on your own day before yesterday?”
“Yes…” She grabbed at the first excuse he’d supplied.
“It wouldn’t have been because you’d wanted to meet with me specifically?”
Her heart picked up speed. She jerked her head around to look at him, freeing those golden strands that had been pressed against his skin, with its smattering of black hairs. Being in such close proximity to him, she felt like every sense had been magnified to the hundredth power.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Because I questioned the worker you talked to. He happened to be Diego, one of my assistants.”
Jillian clutched her purse in reaction. She might have known.
“He said you asked questions about the owner and he told you to call and make an appointment with me. When he told me what time you’d stopped to talk to him, I realized you couldn’t have been on the road ten minutes before the accident.”
“That’s true,” she whispered.
Silence ensued before he said, “Why did you want to see me? Obviously you had a particular reason in mind, otherwise you’d have been off somewhere on a tour bus for the day.”
She lowered her head. He had her squirming. “I—I’m afraid I made a mistake.”
At her remark, she felt his body tauten. “In what way?” he asked.
Afraid she’d offended him again, she moistened her lips nervously. “I wanted to discuss business with you, but since then I’ve changed my mind.”
“You send mixed messages, Senora. Did you not tell me I was an angel with some redeeming qualities?”
Without an honest answer, he would never let this go. She stirred restlessly in the seat. “It’s because you’ve already been so wonderful to me, I don’t want you to feel I’m taking advantage of your good nature.”
“I could hardly assume that when the accident happened after you’d made an effort to talk to me.”
Defeated, she exhaled softly before saying, “All right. I’ve been a tour guide for Europa Utimate Tours six years now. On occasion I help plan their itineraries. So far in France and Spain they’ve concentrated on the main tourist attractions along the French Riviera and the Costa del Sol. I’m trying to put a different trip together that includes the less-frequented parts of central Spain and Portugal.”
His penetrating gaze played over her features. “Most tourists want a beach vacation.”
“I agree, but then there are tourists like me who like to learn things and explore.”
He stared at her through veiled eyes. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
She decided he found her amusing. Taking a fortifying breath she said, “Our tour buses make stops at all kinds of places, including vineyards, but we’ve never offered an olive grove as an educational part of a tour before.
“As I was driving along yesterday, I passed several miles of them and the idea came to me to speak to the owner. When I came to the gate I saw the words Soleado Goyo fashioned in the grillwork. The man told me the estate was owned by the Conde.
“Before the accident happened I was hoping you might consider allowing our tour buses to stop at your estate and enjoy a small tour of the olive groves. To my knowledge our company has never offered an excursion like that here in Spain. It could be a big selling point to tourists if marketed properly. Naturally it would have to be beneficial to you.”
After a moment of quiet she heard his slow intake of breath, as if he carried a heavy weight few people would ever detect. It came from that dark place in his psyche. Though she didn’t know the reason for it, she wanted to cry for his pain laid buried so deeply.
He